


Blue Moon and Yellow Sun

by theyellowbeetle



Category: Marco Polo (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 22:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3094268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyellowbeetle/pseuds/theyellowbeetle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco's dream in 1x04 goes a bit differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Moon and Yellow Sun

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'ed. forgive my ramblings, but I needed to do a thing for this ship.

Dusk has cast the world into blue, soft and serene, and even the wind on his bare chest is a pleasant touch that feels like an extension of Kokachin. The Blue Princess, the blue of dusk, the light of the moon, _blue blue blue_ , and Marco leans in to kiss her –

The setting changes and Marco is no longer with Kokachin under her tree, but instead finds himself in another part of the Grasslands, open land stretching out all around him, anticipation rising as if before battle. Evening has become morning, and the bright sun leaves a gilded trail as it breaks over the horizon, making its way across the sky. Marco is warmed by the sun, held close, but he has an underlining fear he’ll be burned.

Jingim stands in his brilliant golden armor with his back to Marco, hair tumbling past his shoulders, sections of it woven into braids. The Golden Prince, the yellow of morning, the light of the sun, Jingim with his noble radiance and scorching ferocity.

Marco blinks and Jingim is now in front of him. The prince’s hand comes up to cup Marco’s face like Marco had done with Kokachin. Night and day, moon and sun, blue and yellow, blue and yellow, _blue and yellow_ –

Jingim’s kiss is pure heat and his touch burns away the rest of Marco’s clothes. Suddenly, he too is naked and pressing Marco down to the ground in a strikingly familiar position. Marco feels aflame, Jingim’s fingers igniting passion as he moves along the curve of Marco’s shoulder to chest to palm possessively over Marco’s stomach.

He trembles under the prince, feeling aflame, moaning into Jingim’s mouth. Marco sinks his hands into the curtain of Jingim’s hair, rocking his hips upward to feel the searing heat of Jingim’s cock against him.

Marco is rewarded with a moan in return from Jingim in the form of his name, not a title or insult but his _name_ and oh, Marco wants to hear it again, needs to hear Jingim say it again with this altogether different edge that accompanies the movement of Jingim’s body followed by the swipe of tongue.

The prince laughs knowingly and says, “Marco,” against the shell of his ear, and Marco sighs, “Jingim,” without all of the forced formality. It’s something special, unlike anything before between with them. 

“Marco,” he says again, but then Jingim’s voice isn’t his own, it has becomes Hundred Eyes’. “Stop struggling, you fool!”

Marco blinks again and this time, he’s awake in his quarters. Awareness is fast and rude, pain coursing through his body from the bite on his jaw down to every swollen joint. He feels heavy and awkward, desperately flails away from the healer with the leeches, asking, “Where is my sword?” but strong arms hold him in place.

Hundred Eyes sits in a chair next to the bed. “Taken away. Punishment for breaking curfew.”

Marco twists again in a weak fight and realizes his upper body is being supported by Jingim. The bright hue of his clothes hurts Marco’s eyes, but then he remembers his dream, _yellow yellow yellow, the golden sun,_ and Jingim’s hands quickly feel too hot against Marco’s skin. 

“What – ” Marco stops, squeezes his eyes shut, but when he opens them the prince is still on the bed with Marco, easily restraining him. “What are you doing here?”

The lust of the dream fades away and Marco wonders if Jingim had left the snake. But, no, no, it couldn't be, it must have been the one pursuing Kokachin.

Hundred Eyes minutely shakes his head when Marco tries to slide off the bed away from the prince. Jingim catches him and pulls him back up, unaffected by Marco’s sweaty struggling.

“The Khan requested I inquire as to your health, but you were fighting the treatment,” Jingim says, eyes roving over Marco before staring intently into his eyes. “It seems you will survive. Father will be most pleased.”

Marco stills in Jingim’s grip, more trapped under Jingim’s gaze than in his arms. Hundred Eyes interrupts the moment by asking around a smile, “And what about the prince?”

Jingim blinks rapidly several times and looks away from Marco towards Hundred Eyes. “I am not without compassion.”

Hundred Eyes snorts softly in amusement and Jingim’s expression twists. The prince eases Marco into sitting, but his hand takes Marco’s chin firmly, thumb digging in to turn his face and display the wound.

“What were you doing beyond the walls?” Ah, _there_ is Jingim’s usual suspicion. The help had been disconcerting, no matter the comfort or Marco’s poisoned dreams.

“Sleep escaped me,” Marco says, wary of the thumb as it lifts over the bite. “I thought a ride would clear my mind.”

Jingim doesn’t press on the wound. A hot finger moves to touch just under Marco’s ear and then stroke down the length of his neck over Marco’s increasing pulse. “Too close to your throat. Tread more carefully, Master Polo.”

Jingim pulls away and takes a step back. He nods to Hundred Eyes before turning on his heel a little stiffly and striding out of the room to the door where a pair of guards has been lingering. He disappears outside as Marco watches, and the healer begins to collect his things to leave as well.

Marco shakes himself and gropes for where his shirt had been set aside. “I have to go, Sifu. Now.”

“How do you revenge a snake?” Hundred Eyes asks. “You’d be a fool to think only one serpent lays in wait.”

“But not – ” Marco swallows thickly, “but the prince is not one of them?”

The amusement returns to Hundred Eyes’ face. “His would have been a more personal bite.”

“Sifu! That is not funny.”

“One should walk away. You do not need your dream moon, but maybe you could still have the sun.”

 _Moon and sun, blue and yellow_ – Marco covers his face, exhausted, embarrassed, and more than a little nauseous.

“Come now,” Hundred Eyes says, standing up. “Don’t you want to earn your sword back?”


End file.
